f you’ve ever had chance to chat to a sheep – then they’ve likely told you about the problems they’ve endured trying to fill out betting slips.

It’s the hooves , you see. They will explain, “Those little pens they have down the bookies just aren’t made with hooves in mind. Something should be done about it.”

Like so many sheep before him, Len had the same problem. That’s why whenever he went down the bookies, he always had to take his best friend and house mate, Bert,  with him to hold the pen.

Bert was a bit younger than Len and was a Puma. Bert didn’t share Len’s love of gambling though, he saw at as good tinned corned beef money down the drain. So to summarise, Bert was a puma, lived with Len and liked corned beef. That’s about all you need to know about him for now.

Len stared up at one of the small screens in the bookies, transfixed as the horses left their starting posts.

“Which horse have you bet on?” Bert asked, trying to feign some interest.

..pinkbottom? Jimsbrowndoor

“Herfatfriend at 12-1. This comes in we’ll be laughing, Bert – I’ll treat you to a right nice knees up at the fox and lion. Could even go on that holiday we’ve always spoke about!”

“Shouldn’t you think about paying some money back to Jimmy the Gopher before you start thinking about holidays, Len?”

Suddenly, a furry paw landed on Len’s shoulder. Who should it be but the aforementioned Jimmy the Gopher. And he had been looking for Len.

“I’ve been looking for you, Len.” Jimmy sneered. He wore a brown cloth workman’s cap, slightly pulled down across one side of his face – in the style gophers often do.

He was softly spoken, but when he spoke – you listened. He had an air of menace amount him, probably born from all the local stories going around. One story said he had a special greenhouse on his allotment where he would tie people up and “subject them to ‘orrible torment” – so the story went anyway.

Len gulped. He was in debt to Jimmy the Gopher to the tune of 5 grand. And his horse had just fallen over.